


Anything Else

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom!Sam, F/M, Knife Kink, Marking, Paddling, SMUUUUUT, Size Kink, Spanking, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 19:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12153720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Written for @spnkinkbingo. Square filled: Paddling. Sam never thought she'd have so many kinks. Sam's POV.





	Anything Else

She’s so much younger than me. One of the things I love about her is her carefree innocence, even though she knew about the things that go bump in the night. There was no dark backstory for her; no dead family, no murdered friends. No sudden dunk into the world of the Supernatural. She’d found out on her own, sure, when a hunter had come to town, and she’d been more curious that she probably ought to have been.

As it turned out, Y/N is a superhero unlike any I’ve ever met. She chose the life because she wanted to do good. She worked the angles Dean and I never even considered, and I can honestly say that the light she brought with her into our little family? I hope we never lose it.

We met her on a salt and burn in Milwaukee, a milk run, but she’d beaten us to it, and offered to take us out for drinks. This girl was all fire and froth, and Dean had instantly hit on her while I’d hung back, reluctant to make any kind of move. It had always been my way; I’m not bold or confident like my brother, and I don’t drop the hot coffee line on any girl.

He hadn’t been too impressed when she turned him down flat, telling him he couldn’t handle a girl like her. Her eyes met mine when she said it, and I think that was where it started. That little spark in my chest that seemed to burn brighter with every moment I spent with her, and when she decided that I was going to be hers, I was powerless to resist.

Even if I’d been able to, I wouldn’t have. Y/N was perfect. Despite the age difference, she wanted me, and I felt like I’d been blessed.

It didn’t stop the fear.

I took it slow, refusing to get too involved, worried that who I am,  _ what _ I am would put her at risk. And then, she’d started to deliberately leave things for me to find. An open catalogue with kinky underwear. Sex toys on her bed when she knew I was coming in. Jokes about tying her up, and the way she liked a little pain with her pleasure. Things I’d always liked, but things I’d never dared to try on anyone.

Except for when I was soulless. Then, I’d had no moral compass, and I don’t like to remember those times.

But Y/N, she made me feel safe. Made me feel like I could express myself in that regard, in the way I could touch her. We started small - she liked me marking her with bites, nails, a little spanking. Of course I craved more, but I didn’t want to push her.

When she brought me the paddle, presenting it to me one night when Dean was out… fuck, I’ll never forget the way she sung for me. The way she struggled to sit down the next day, her face as red as I knew her ass cheeks were. It became a staple of our love life, and her ass was permanently tanned from my hand or the paddle.

My birthday rolled around like it did every year, and I was content to ignore it. Dean didn’t mention it, and Y/N didn’t appear to be aware of it. She went about her business, researching for the hunt, and when my brother announced he was going out, I just shrugged and went with it.

“Sam?” Her voice is small in the vastness of the library, and I look up, seeing her in the doorway. My jaw drops at the sight of her - she’s wearing red lace, a crotchless thong with an underwired babydoll cascading over her curves, and bare feet. Her hair is swept up into a ponytail, the way I like it, exposing the column of her neck, still littered with bruises from where I’d fucked her two days before.

And in her hands, she holds a brand new wooden paddle, not leather like the last one, and a pair of handcuffs. The smile on her face is seductive, and she arches one eyebrow as I continue to gape at her like a moron.

“Happy birthday, baby,” she whispers, turning to give me a view of her pert ass as she walks away. I follow without even thinking, drawn by the invisible hold she has on me. When I catch up to her, she’s already in the bedroom, and there are more toys on the nightstand. Only one is new.

I pick up the slim knife, inspecting it, finding it sharp enough to nick my finger when I test it. The frown on my face gives her pause as she kneels on the bed, and there’s worry in her eyes. “Are you sure about this?” I ask, and she nods, a little timid in her answer. It’s something we’d discussed, of course - Y/N was not shy about the things she wanted to try. She’d talked me into letting her fuck me up the ass with a small vibrator, and I had nearly passed out when she made me come without even touching my dick. She loves being tied down, and I’d caught her on more than one occasion pressing into the bruises I left on her, making them hurt and making them worse.

This girl has more kinks that I could count and I love her all the more for it.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” she affirms, reaching out to run one hand down my chest. “I trust you, Sam.”

It’s ridiculous, how much those words affect me. Trust has always been a big issue for me, with everything that has happened in my life. To know that she trusted me with this? That she trusted me with anything? It was exhilarating. I’ve never felt so comfortable and secure with another human being like I do with her.

“Y/N,” I murmur, cupping her face with my free hand as I put the knife down. “I love you, so much.”

She smiles, her eyes sparkling, before she draws away and gestures to the bed. “Where do you want me, sir?”

“End of the bed,” I reply, my voice thick with arousal. My cock is already straining in my pants, and I’m itching to tear off my clothes and fuck her in all that pretty red lace. Y/N obeys, and I grab the rope that I’d stuffed down the side of the bed after our last session.

Above the bed, I’d attached two hooks into the ceiling, making it easier to tie her up. The ropes were tight, and I make sure they aren’t going to slip from the hooks, before I secure her hands with the handcuffs and attach her to the ropes. A slipknot would suffice, allowing me to tug her free if I wanted to lay her down or move her.

“Can you reach the floor with your toes, baby?” She attempts to, dangling in front of me, nodding when her toes brushed the concrete. It didn’t really matter - I intended on holding her up while I fucked her. Pulling one of the cups of her babydoll down, I free her breasts, squeezing and massaging them, watching as her nipples pebble with arousal. “I’m the luckiest guy alive, you know that?”

She smiles at my words, and I release her, leaving her to hang there for a moment as I strip off my clothes, groaning as the pressure on my cock is released. Y/N is motionless, simply hanging there as she waits, like she always does. It amazes me at times how obedient she is and how much it turns me on.

Picking up the paddle, I move back towards her, not missing the way her eyes land on my thick cock, hungrily staring at me. I’m not going to fuck her just yet, but I can bet she’s already wet, twitching for me. The scent of her favorite soap filled my nose, and I can’t help but sigh happily.

Her throat flexes when she swallows, wide eyes on my face now, and I grant her a soft smile as I reach out, turning her in her restraints. The angle is simple to adjust with the handcuffs attached to the rope, which was why I always tied her this way. When her back is to me, I drink in the curve of her ass underneath the sheer lace of the babydoll, but I want more. It’s easy to tuck the material up, exposing her bare skin, and the way her ass is framed by the crotchless thong she’s wearing.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” I mutter, running my hand down over her asscheek, squeezing lightly. “Tell me if it’s too much.” She won’t say a thing - she never does. Sometimes it worries me, that she’s not telling me because she wants to please me, but when I push her, ask if she’s okay, she’ll just beg for more. I wonder if she even has limits at times.

Raising the paddle, I press it against her ass, watching the way her body tenses for a brief second before relaxing. It’s a natural instinct to the touch of the smooth wood, and I can’t deny the thrill of seeing it. I rub it again her ass, letting her feel the smooth surface before I pull it away again.

The first smack is soft, enough to make the gorgeous globe of her ass shake, but not enough to leave a mark. Y/N whines, breathing through her nose as I watch her body tense and relax once again. Holding the paddle, I turn my attention to the other cheek, bringing it down with a little more force than before. She whines again, and I feel my cock twitch at the sound.

Third strike, and her skin starts to blush with the force of the wood against it. I kept bringing it down, over and over, until she’s panting, keeping my strokes alternating between each side. It’s beautiful, the way she arches her back and makes those little noises of pleasure. She’s probably dripping, soaked for me, and the anticipation of sinking into that tight wet heat… it’s almost enough to stop my play time, and just fuck her.

But I’ve got other ideas that I want to play out.

When I’ve hit her twenty times on each cheek and she is whimpering with each stroke, I drop the paddle, abandoning her to fetch the thin knife. It’s silver, and smaller than any other knife I’ve ever had - I’m a little worried my big  hands won’t be able to handle it. But when I move back to her, turning her again so her unblemished front is facing me, she’s waiting. “It’s specially made for playing,” she whispers, pushing her breasts out a little more, and I know that the red babydoll isn’t going to last beyond this night.

One quick slice and it’s dropping to the floor at her feet, and she’s biting her bottom lip, looking like the picture of sin. I hold the knife point just under her navel, seeing her suck in a breath at the pressure. A small bead of blood gathers at the tip, coloring her skin in a way that steals the air from my lungs, and I press in a tiny bit harder, watching her face contort with the sensation.

When I decide it looks more like pain than pleasure, I pull away and she looks at me with those big eyes, not voicing her demand for more, but I hear it all the same. Choosing a different spot, just above her hip, I drag the blade down in a curved line, knowing it’s the least painful spot. Y/N gasps as her skin splits, and blood wells up in the wound that is no more than a scratch.

“You want more?” I ask, uncertain of how she is feeling about this.

“Yes,” she hisses, and I hold the knife up to her breast, carefully gliding the blade around the swell of it, not breaking the skin. She’s holding her breath now, her body breaking out in a thin sweat that just makes the blood I’ve already drawn spread further. “Mark me, Sam,” Y/N whispers.

I want to put my name on her. I want her to carry me wherever she goes, but I know she already does. She doesn’t need a physical mark for that. Even so, I raise the knife higher, to where her collar bone is, and press it in. The blood is instantaneous, even though I’m carving less than a millimeter into her flesh, but it’s enough to make her scream in pleasure.

A few seconds later, there’s a neatly drawn “S” in blood on her skin, and I can’t take anymore. Throwing the knife to the floor, I bend, lifting her legs up so they are wrapped about my waist, and her arms strain in her bindings. It takes one swift thrust, and I’m buried in her soaked cunt to the hilt, both of us crying out at the connection.

She’s begging now, needing to come, and I want to feel it around my cock. I can smell her blood - a leftover from the days I was addicted to the darker stuff - and I want to taste her. Bending my head down, I lick along the bloodied, sweat slicked skin where I’d cut her, and she tastes better than even Ruby ever had.

Whatever it was that the pain meant to her, it’s making her come now; her pussy is spasming around the thick girth of my cock, and I feel like I might pass out. I need to come, need to fill her up.

I look down, seeing the way my cock makes her belly protrude a little - she’s so fucking small, and so fucking perfect. She’s screaming in bliss, still coming, still tightening around me, and I’m not going to last. The sight of her, filled with me, coated in blood and sweat, the whiteness of her spendings on the skin of my cock as I pull out and fuck back in…

It’s enough to finish me, and I slam into her one last time, making her shriek. I don’t know how long I’m pumping into her, but she’s gone quiet and almost limp before I’m done.

Loosening the ropes, I let her slump into my arms, and I hold her there for a moment, impaled on my dick, the scent of her surrounding me. She’s nuzzling into my neck, thanking me, and I don’t know what for. When I move, taking her to the bed and setting her down, withdrawing from her body and removing her restraints, all I can think of, is how I should be thanking her.

There isn’t anything else in this world that makes me feel like her. That makes me feel safe, loved and wanted. She is my home.


End file.
